


Don't Go

by wrackwonder



Series: Home [5]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, F/F, Medical Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:24:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8125129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrackwonder/pseuds/wrackwonder
Summary: The birth of the third Haught-Earp baby doesn't go according to plan.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Despite the title and summary, I want to assure you that this has a happy ending. I usually wouldn't spoil my story like this, but queer fandom has been through a lot and I want to keep everyone safe.

The blood on her white canvas shoes had faded from a startling crimson to a dull, muddy brown. Nicole looked at them distractedly, brows furrowed, lips curved into a permanent frown. The shoes were likely ruined, which was too bad because they had been a birthday gift from Waverly. Something about making Nicole shorter, or at least, short enough for Waverly to reach more easily. Waverly would be upset about the blood. And the shoes. Waverly…

 

“Nicole…”

 

Waverly might be dead. Nicole couldn’t be sure. She was sitting in a hospital waiting room, wearing shoes spattered with her wife’s blood, and for all she knew, Waverly and their unborn baby were gone.

 

“Nicole!”

 

There was also blood on her hands. On her wedding ring. Nicole’s frown deepened. She’d have to wash her hands at the earliest opportunity. She didn’t want the kids seeing their mama full of gore. She briefly wondered where the kids were. But Waverly could be dead. So she didn’t want to think too much about all of that.

 

“Damn it, Haught!”

 

Wynonna was crouched in front of her yelling. Nicole couldn’t be sure when her sister-in-law arrived. But here she was. Eyes wild. Her lips were moving, but Nicole didn’t particularly want to listen. She wanted to look at the blood on her shoes. And on her ring. It was Waverly’s blood so she wanted to look at it.

 

“Nicole, Jesus, you need to start talking to me right now.”

 

“Why?” Nicole had raised her hand in front of her face, turning it so her ring caught the harsh, hospital lighting.

 

“Hey, you’re in shock, okay? But can you tell me what the hell happened?”

 

There was blood under her fingernails too. Nicole probably needed a shower. She wondered if that was something she could do at the hospital. Hospitals had showers.

 

Before she could call a nurse over to ask, however, something dull and painful suddenly grasped the skin near her elbow. She blinked heavily and then looked down, surprised to see Wynonna’s fingers pinching her. Hard. It was jolting. It felt like electricity was coursing through her brain. It _hurt_.

 

“Ouch!”

 

“Figured it was better than a slap?”

 

“Damn it, Wynonna!” Nicole’s voice caught on her sister-in-law’s name. Her fascination with the blood on her shoes and her hands turned to revulsion. She felt sick. The lights were too bright. The hospital smelled like urine and bleach.

 

Wynonna braced Nicole by the arms and stared at her with those open blue eyes. The look always worked on Doc and Dolls, and Nicole found herself breathing easier at the sight of them. Willa had the same eyes.

 

“The kids?”

 

“Happily distracted with Gus. Now I need you talk to me, okay?” Wynonna never eased her grasp and Nicole leaned forward slightly, finding it hard to breathe.

 

“Her back had been hurting all morning, she woke up in pain. Insisted I go to work though,” Nicole said, her voice shaking. “I decided to come home on my lunch break to check on her, just had a feelin’ something was off.”

 

She paused, fighting nausea at the memory of what she had found.

 

“The house was so quiet, it’s usually noisy, you know? She was sprawled out on the kitchen floor, I think she was makin’ me lunch. That sandwich I like. I told her not to make me anything, but you try telling Waverly not to do something.”

 

Wynonna nodded with a sad grin.

 

“There was so much blood, Wynonna. And I don’t know how long she was lyin’ there or if she’s alive. Or the baby…”

 

“She’s alive.” Wynonna’s voice was harsh, as if the very idea of that Waverly could be dead was offensive. She squeezed Nicole’s shoulders hard and Purgatory’s sheriff sniffled loudly, trying to muster some confidence in Wynonna’s statement.

 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

 

“But what if…”

 

“They’ll come find you. Come, Waverly will kill you if you track blood into her hospital room.”

 

With a steadying hand on her back, Wynonna helped Nicole towards the washroom. Nicole didn’t look down at the bloody footprints she’d left on the tile floor.

 

~*~

 

They were likely a strange looking group amidst the hospital’s usual collection of elderly patients and worried parents. Wynonna had helped Nicole change into a pair of scrubs, which made her look like a shell-shocked doctor in the waiting room. Wynonna’s belonging had somehow found their way across an entire row of chairs. And while the two women were busy cleaning up, Doc and Dolls had walked in, all black leather jackets and trench coats, and heavy boots on the ground. Nicole knew her found family cared for her, she had no doubt about it. But the reason they were here? The reason Doc and Dolls sat quietly next to each other, was all because of Waverly.

 

Her wife was loved. Deeply loved. And her children were adored profoundly. The endless triangle that was Doc and Dolls and Wynonna didn’t matter in light of how much all three loved Nicole’s family. And it made her feel a little stronger having them all here. Waverly was a fighter, but it never hurt to bring back up. As she sat with Black Badge’s finest, Nicole let herself hope, just a little bit, for the first time since she’d found Waverly on the floor.

 

“Sheriff?”

 

The voice was calm, steady. It didn’t seem to hold any of the sorrow Nicole had been half expecting so she looked up, squeezing Wynonna’s hand, and found herself staring at a doctor she’d never seen before.

 

“Hi,” he said and he was smiling, which was good because what kind of monster would deliver horrific news with a grin. Nicole’s thoughts were racing, her head was moving so quickly that she felt herself blink once, then again, trying to brace for whatever this stranger in pink scrubs was about to tell her.

 

“Would you like to meet your son?”

 

Son. The word fell from his lips and hovered in the air right in front of Nicole’s face. She wanted to grab it. She vaguely realized Wynonna had exhaled, but her own lungs seemed to have stopped working. _Son_.

 

“Is he…he’s alive?”

 

“Oh, yes, very much so!”

 

Nicole stood robotically, accidentally pulling Wynonna with her. Her son was alive. And he was alone. And he needed his mama. She wanted to march ahead, push past this young doctor with his smile and bright eyes. But she had no idea where she was going, only that Wynonna was holding her hand and her son was somewhere in the hospital and her wife…

 

“Hey, Dr. McDipshit, let’s go!”

 

This time it was Wynonna that did the pulling. The resident look slightly startled and then offended, but one look at the Haught-Earp family was enough to silence him. Nicole didn’t realize that Dolls had flexed his muscles and Doc had revealed his side arm. She didn’t see Wynonna’s snarl. She just wanted her baby.

 

~*~

 

“We’ve got him on oxygen so don’t be alarmed by the little tube around his nose,” a nurse that Nicole remembered from Wyatt’s birth had taken her by the elbow and was gently leading her into the NICU. Wynonna was forced to wait outside, but Nicole knew she was close by, face pressed against the glass window.

 

“He’s a little one, just over four pounds, and we have him on a feeding tube for now.”

 

“I don’t…” Nicole swallowed hard, trying to spit out the words, “My wife was bleeding…I don’t know how long…is he…will that…”

 

“We’re running every test we need to run, he’s getting all the treatment he needs,” the nurse said softly, her hand still cupping Nicole’s elbow. It felt warm and safe and Nicole trusted this woman beside her. She had been there with Wyatt and then with Willa after they finally made it to the hospital. This woman wouldn’t lie, not about a Haught-Earp baby. So Nicole nodded and allowed herself to be brought further into the NICU.

 

She approached the basinet with all the caution she’d take rounding a corner during a sweep of a meth dealer’s house. It was scary, _she_ was scared, because she didn’t know how to do this alone. Waverly had always been there when the kids were born. Each birth had been unique, but it was always Waverly and Nicole working together, brining their babies into the world. Waverly had held Nicole’s hand so tightly when Wyatt was born that Nicole still bore tiny, nearly invisible crescent moon scars on her hand. And then Willla, the snowstorm, Nicole had cradled Waverly against her, providing comfort, providing something to hold onto. And that’s what they were to each other. Always.

 

Which is why Nicole felt herself shaking because she was alone. And she didn’t know if Waverly was alive. And her son was…

 

He was small. Smaller than Wyatt. Even smaller than Willa. But he was also the most beautiful thing Nicole had ever seen. There were a lot of tubes and monitors around his incubator. His diaper looked like it was swallowing up his tiny body and his legs were skinny and adorable. It was hard to tell whom he looked like yet, his eyes were closed, but there seemed to be a light smattering of honey-brown hair on top of his head. Nicole felt _it_ , that same feeling she’d had at the birth of all of her children. Love. And fear. And the sudden need to protect the tiny little creature that somehow was both her and Waverly wrapped into one.

 

She darted forward without thinking, placing both palms on the plastic box, and then she turned, facing the nurse with wide eyes.

 

“Can I touch him?” she asked.

 

“Of course.”

 

The baby inhaled deeply as Nicole pressed her hand lightly against his chest. She could feel his tiny lungs fill, she could feel his heartbeat, she could feel his life beneath her palm and it brought tears to her eyes.

 

“His blood pressure is fairly steady, we’re keeping our eye on it. And his lungs will need to mature,” the nurse was saying and Nicole was desperately trying to listen. But she had lowered her hand to touch the baby’s little wrist and suddenly, his tiny fingers were wrapped around one of her own. The grip was so strong. The gathered tears fell down Nicole’s cheeks. Slowly. One by one. Her son was alive.

 

“Lydia?” Nicole managed to say and the nurse paused to listen. “Could you check on my wife?”

 

Her request was met with a kind smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. And then Nicole was left alone with her son.

 

“Hey, little man,” she whispered, sneaking her free hand through the second hole in the basinet so she could softly stroke the baby’s head.

 

“I’m your mama so we should probably get to know each other a little bit, hey?” Nicole took a second to watch the infant breathe. She looked at the numerous wires attached to his body and then at the machines flickering all around her.

 

“So I know this is a pretty scary start to life and I’m sorry, my sweet boy. I wish it had been different. But I’m here now.”

 

The baby squeezed her finger again and Nicole took it as a sign that he was listening to her voice, or at least taking comfort from her. It felt good. It felt like after a day of helplessness, she was finally doing _something_.

 

“You’ve got so much love in your corner, little man, so much. Your auntie Wynonna will probably break in here any second, she’s really annoying, but she’s strong. Earps are really strong, you’ll learn that.”

 

It was hard to keep her hands still when all she wanted to do was pick the tiny body up and press it to her shoulder. But she couldn’t, not with his blood pressure unstable, so she continued to gently rub her thumb against the tiny fingers wrapped around her.

 

“There’s your big brother, Wyatt,” she said, smiling at the thought of her eldest. “He’s so smart, you won’t even believe it. And then there’s Willa, your sister…”

 

Nicole found herself shaking her head, holding in a laugh.

 

“She’s going to want to take you on lots of adventures, hopefully I can hold her off until you’re a little bit bigger. But you’re going to get in so much trouble, Buba, so much.”

 

She spoke then of Doc and Dolls, of the two uncles that would always be there, though she skipped the part about the endless love triangle that seemed to follow her family as long as Wynonna was present. There was talk of Shorty’s and the weekend petting zoo at the farm down the road and the mountains they would see from the Homestead’s front porch. She talked and talked, filling the quiet space with words and pictures and all the while, the baby held her fingers and squeezed.

 

“And then there’s your mom. Mommy,” Nicole’s voice caught and she sniffled loudly, trying to hold back the seemingly endless tears because she wanted to be strong in front of her baby boy.

 

“She’s…she’s everything. She’s our heartbeat…”

 

It was too hard to go on. Too hard when all she could picture was Waverly’s lifeless body lying in a pool of blood. So she stopped talking and just looked at her baby, studied him, breathed in the baby smell she could just make out beyond the wires and tubes. It wasn’t until a shadow fell over the basinet that Nicole looked up with clear eyes to find Wynonna standing over her.

 

“Wow,” her sister-in-law seemed mesmerized by the baby, blue eyes wide and wet. She sat down on the round stool opposite Nicole and then reached out, stopping herself before she pushed her hand through the small hole in the incubator.

 

“Is this okay?” she asked and when Nicole nodded, Wynonna delicately ran her fingertip over the baby’s arm.

 

“So he’s tiny,” she mumbled and again Nicole nodded.

 

“And holy crapcakes does he look like Waves.”

 

“You think?” Nicole tilted her head, trying to search her son’s face beneath the oxygen tube around his cheeks.

 

“The chin. Nose. Yeah, that’s what Waves looked like…I mean, a bit bigger, obviously, but…yeah. Wow.”

 

The two women sat in companionable silence for a moment as Wynonna took in her brand new nephew. For someone that spent her days living hard and drinking hard, Wynonna’s hands were so gentle as they rested on an impossibly tiny belly.

 

“This little dude have a name?”

 

Nicole swallowed hard.

 

“Waverly wanted…I mean, Waverly wants to be the one to tell you,” she said, and Wynonna’s jaw visibly twitched.

 

“Then Waverly is going tell me.” The certainty in Wynonna’s voice was reassuring. Nicole was about to respond when another voice interrupted them.

 

“Sheriff?”

 

It felt like Nicole had spent all day bracing for news. About her wife. About her baby. And here she was again, suddenly tense, trying to decipher the news based on that one word. _Sheriff_.

 

“Just say it.”

 

“Your wife is in recovery, you can go see her now.”

 

The baby’s skin was soft beneath her fingers. The monitors beeped loudly. Wynonna was breathing unsteadily. Her watch was ticking. It sounded too heavy. Much too heavy.

 

“Nicole?”

 

Her son had Waverly’s chin and Waverly’s nose. And Waverly was in recovery. Somewhere in the hospital. Waverly’s chin and Waverly’s nose and…

 

“Come on, Haught,” Wynonna’s hand closed over her own where it rested on the baby’s head.

 

“She’s in recovery?” The question was directed at Wynonna. Wynonna wouldn’t lie about Waverly.

 

The Earp heir nodded.

 

Nicole was about to stand, but she couldn’t quite make herself move. Not when it meant leaving her son.

 

“Hey,” Wynonna said, “go see Waves. I’ll stay here, send you updates, I promise.”

 

With a sharp nod of her head and a shared look of understanding, Nicole stood, already feeling the loss of her baby boy as she removed her hands from his little body. She wanted nothing more than to lean down and place a kiss on her son’s brow, but she couldn’t, not with the incubator, so instead she pressed her hand against the plastic one last time and then turned her back. Waverly needed her now.

 

~*~

 

“We managed to stop the bleeding, which is lucky with placental abruption, but obviously we had to perform an emergency C-section.”

 

Nicole nodded along, trying to make the words make sense.

 

“We expect a full recovery, it’s lucky you found her when you did. Without a doubt you saved her life!”

 

The surgeon likely meant it to be supportive, maybe even comforting, but Nicole only felt the heaviness of the situation. Waverly hadn’t been feeling well all week. And then Waverly had spent who knows how long lying in a pool of her own blood. Not to mention the major surgery…

 

“Can I see her?”

 

“Of course. She’ll likely be groggy from the anaesthesia, but…”

 

Nicole didn’t stop to listen. She pushed through the door and in two short strides she was standing beside Waverly’s bed. There was a chair already there, but Nicole needed a minute just to look down, take in her wife. Her wife who looked pale, but otherwise comfortable. She just looked like she always looked when she slept: peaceful, content, a tiny hint of a smile on her lips. It was strange, almost shocking, Nicole felt scared and nauseous and she didn’t know how to convince her brain that Waverly was alive and okay. She couldn’t reconcile the image of Waverly lying lifeless and Waverly lying in this hospital bed. Or that their son was here. She didn’t know anything because Waverly knew _everything_ and she could feel the panic and the unknown of the day seize her lungs and her throat and…

 

“Nic?”

 

Her eyes were still closed and her voice sounded like gravel, but there was no doubt that Waverly was awake.

 

“Hey, hi, baby? I’m here, okay?” Nicole lowered herself into the chair and simultaneously took Waverly’s hand. Her wife squeezed it and smiled as soon as they touched. It made Nicole’s jaw shake, she could feel the tears threatening, but she refused to cry. It felt like she’d been crying all day.

 

“The baby?” Waverly’s brow furrowed. She never opened her eyes, but Nicole could see the sudden worry wash across her features.

 

“He’s great, Waves. He’s really little, but he’s doing so well, and he can’t wait to meet you.”

 

“He?”

 

“Yeah, yes. Wynonna says he looks just like you.”

 

“Hmmm…name works.”

 

Nicole smiled and pulled Waverly’s hand to her lips.

 

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

 

“No sorries.”

 

“But…”

 

Waverly blinked heavily then and the sight of her awake, of her eyes open, caused one traitorous tear to run down Nicole’s cheek.

 

“Let me see him.”

 

Wynonna had been busy sending Nicole updates every minute or so. They ranged from pictures of the baby, to messages she gathered from the nurses in the NICU.

 

_Update: pretty sure he farted. It was awesome._

_Update: first diaper change. Took it like a champ. Also, giant balls. FYI. #Winner_

_Update: he opened his eyes a tiny little bit. Looks a little hung over. Definitely an Earp._

 

Nicole showed her wife the latest picture where the baby had indeed cracked his eyes open a tiny, little sliver.

 

“Oh no,” Waverly said with a soft laugh.

 

“What?”

 

“He’s got your eyes. Trouble.”

 

“You think?” Nicole asked and Waverly could only nod, the smile never leaving her lips.

 

“So tired,” Waverly’s breathing was already slowing down and Nicole nodded, tangling her free hand in her wife’s hair.

 

“Sleep. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

 

“C’mere…”

 

“I don’t think I’m allowed, baby. Small bed and…”

 

“Legs,” Waverly mumbled.

 

“Yeah, my long legs, that’s right.”

 

Nicole wanted to say so much. She wanted to tell Waverly about the C-section. About how scared she had been. About her ruined shoes. But she couldn’t. It was as if all the words tangled up inside her. As if releasing them would break whatever was left of her strength. So instead she sat quietly and watched her wife sleep.

 

~*~

 

“You first!”

 

Nicole was having trouble catching up. She still woke up each morning covered in sweat, her dreams telling her that Waverly was lying on the floor, that Waverly was covered in blood, that Waverly was dead. But Waverly was allowed to go home mere days after the emergency C-section. Their lives became a constant series of trips to the hospital to sit with the baby. Each day, Waverly grew stronger. Each day, the baby proved that he was every bit a Haught-Earp. And each day Nicole felt like she was losing her grasp on reality. Like something awful and foreboding was about to happen. Like she couldn’t control _anything_. Like she’d forgotten how to use her lungs and her heart properly.

 

When the nurse had finally told Waverly that they could hold the baby, the youngest Earp had nearly leapt off the small stool she sat on and made a lunge for the basinet. Waverly still needed to be careful, her wounds were healing, but nothing could dim the smile on her face at the thought of _finally_ being able to hold their son.

 

But Nicole felt shaky. She knew she should be happy. She knew she should be excited. But she lived in a state of perpetual dizziness. Even with Waverly home, she could not seem to move past her fear. At night she paced the Homestead, checking on her wife, her children, cleaning the kitchen, the bathroom, polishing her boots, tilting crooked picture frames to a right angle. She couldn’t sleep. She was barely eating. And her only saving grace was that Waverly had yet to notice.

 

“Wait, what?” Nicole stuttered as Waverly enthusiastically turned to her.

 

“You always hold our babies first. Your turn, Mama!”

 

“We find skin to skin works wonders for preemies,” the nurse said, and Nicole found herself nodding and slowly unbuttoning the top few buttons of her shirt. Waverly wiggled her eyebrows and stage-whispered “hot,” which made Nicole blush and feel slightly more calm.

 

And then the baby was being lifted, wires and tubes and impossibly tiny legs. Nicole watched the nurse transfer him from the basinet and with outstretched arms, she received her son for the first time. He was so light, lighter than Wyatt or Willa had been. And for a moment she looked down at him in awe, as if she had never seen his face before. He was beautiful, she already knew that, but seeing him outside of his little box, the way his eyes opened and looked up at her, the tiny upturn of his perfect, baby lips? Nicole felt _too_ much. She wanted to cry and laugh. She wanted to hold him close and keep him tucked into her forever.

 

She raised him up, carefully positioning him against her shoulder, and then they both exhaled at the exact same time. The baby rubbed his little cheek against her shoulder and seemed to settle immediately. He was asleep before Nicole could even lean back in the chair.

 

“Wow,” Waverly whispered beside her and it was only then that Nicole noticed her wife crying.

 

“He’s so light,” Nicole said and Waverly nodded, pressing one hand to her son’s back.

 

“You’re unfairly beautiful, you know?”

 

“Stop.”

 

“Nope.”

 

Nicole tried to let herself take in the situation. Despite the baby’s size, he still felt warm and solid against her skin. She could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, pulsing against her shoulder like a little toy soldier’s march. And Waverly was beside her, smiling, laughing. If not for her stitches, she’d likely be jumping up and down, enthusiastically celebrating this milestone. Waverly was _Waverly_. But Nicole could not shake her dread no matter how much she desperately wanted to fling it from her shoulders, banish its weight from her life.

 

When it was Waverly’s turn to hold the baby, Nicole hesitated, clinging to the infant for a moment too long. Her wife laughed, taking it as a joke, and Nicole was able to force a smile and a sly wink. The baby settled against Waverly just as he had settled against Nicole.

 

They only had a few moments of peace between them before the door to the NICU opened and their guests arrived. It had taken some puppy-dog eyes from Waverly, but eventually the hospital allowed clearance for the Haught-Earp family to come visit their newest addition.

 

Willa walked in holding Wynonna’s hand, but as soon as she saw her mothers, she tried to make a mad dash. Wynonna pulled her back, a quick, “Willa, we talked about this,” was enough to slow the little girl down. She frowned deeply, obviously unimpressed with the discipline. Wyatt came in next, ever-present book in hand, and behind him, Dolls crept into the room, looking for all the world like a man on a mission.

 

“Hi, my babies!” Waverly said, eyes brightening at the sight of her family.

 

“Why is he so small?” Willa had crawled into Nicole’s lap and was looking down at her new baby brother.

 

“Because he was born a little too early, remember, we talked about that?” Nicole couldn’t help but laugh at her daughter. Willa was stubborn and passionate and shockingly blunt. It was obvious that her little mind was turning over this new information as she tilted her head to take in the baby in Waverly’s arms.

 

“But I can’t take him outside,” she moaned, her disappointment causing the adults in the room to stifle their giggles.

 

“When he’s a little bigger you can,” Waverly offered. Willa seemed to consider it.

 

“Can we bring all those tubes home with us?” Was what came out next and Nicole pressed her nose into Willa’s dark hair, inhaling the familiar sent of fresh air and grass and cookies.

 

Wyatt had quietly taken his place beside Nicole, lingering near his mama’s shoulder.

 

“Is he going to be okay?” Their son was introspective and shy, but incredibly generous and caring. At eight years old he was all concern and worry.

 

“Yeah, Buba, he’s going to be great,” Nicole answered, turning to look at the boy that shared so many of her features. Except his eyes. His eyes were all Waverly.

 

Wynonna and Dolls had taken a step closer, obviously wanted to give the family a little privacy, but they were both peering over, trying to get a better glimpse of the baby.

 

“Hey,” Waverly said, looking up from her children, “where’s Doc?”

 

“Revenant stuff, you know, Ghost River things,” Wynonna mumbled. Waverly and Nicole shared a brief glance and then mutually decided to drop it. The drama that was Doc and Dolls and Wynonna was ongoing and ever-present and not appropriate for a NICU.

 

“Okay, enough about Doc, can you finally tell me the Little Dude’s name? I’m getting real tired of calling him ‘Squirt’ or ‘Chicken’ or…” Wynonna’s attempt to side-step the Doc situation was admirable, if not slightly heavy-handed.

 

“You called my baby “Chicken”?” Waverly gave her sister a withering glare, but Wynonna shrugged and raised her eyebrows in waiting.

 

“You ready?” Waverly asked Nicole and Nicole nodded, taking a moment to settle Willa on her lap.

 

“His name,” Waverly began, pausing for effect, “is Wynne Xavier Haught-Earp.”

 

The room went strangely silent save for the constant sound of monitors and nurses. Then Wynonna sniffled loudly and Nicole could see Willa’s jaw drop.

 

“Auntie Wyn, are you crying?” Willa’s horrified little voice caused Wynonna to open and close her mouth multiple times. And then she furiously wiped at her cheeks.

 

“No! I’m not! I just, “Wynne”? Really? Guys?”

 

“Xavie, are _you_ crying?”

 

“What?” Dolls cleared his throat loudly and squared his shoulders. “No, I mean, I totally…”

 

Waverly giggled. And then Willa started. Followed by Wynonna. And soon they were all laughing in the NICU, despite the disapproving glares from the nurses. It was overwhelmingly happy. As happy as any of them had ever been. Even Wyatt was laughing, his book forgotten as he leaned across Nicole and carefully held Wynne’s little foot for the first time.

 

But despite the laughter, despite the wide grin she forced across her features, Nicole felt like she was hearing it through water, like she was aware that there was laughter around her, but it was distorted, out of place. She wished she could take part.

 

But Waverly had been lying in a pool of blood. And that blood had stained Nicole’s shoes and her jeans and her hands. It was under her nails and between her teeth and wedged deeply, like a frozen shard, in her spine. She tried to feel the joy in the room. Willa’s curiosity. Wyatt’s strength. Wynonna’s happiness. Dolls’ surprise. Wynne’s contentment in the arms of his mother. And Waverly, always Waverly.

 

Except she couldn’t feel it. All she could feel was the blood and the fear and the knowledge that this was all her fault. And so while her family laughed, Nicole sat as still as she could, willing her hands not to shake, willing her eyes not to well with tears. Willing herself not to scream.

**Author's Note:**

> Hhhmm...what's up with Nicole? I'm very much planning a part two of this. Not sure when it will happen - work is crazy. But it WILL happen. I very much wanted to introduce Haught-Earp baby number three! 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. If you like it, could you leave a comment? I love reading your thoughts. They inspire me so much.
> 
> Big thanks to my pal MicheTS for coming up with the baby names!


End file.
